The Inescapable God: A Sermon for the 2nd Week After Pentecost

Picture by Mike Moyers

Grant us your peace, we pray, as justice and love pour down upon the yearning earth. Amen.

 

During our typical Sunday worship, there are usually four readings: one from the Hebrew Bible, one from the book of Psalms, one from the Epistles, and one from the Gospel. The Gospel is, of course, the most important of the readings, and in our shortened services in the summer, you will notice we drop the Epistle. This is because those readings are usually echoes of the Gospel.

 

However, the psalms seem to get slightly brushed over. At one time, the Psalms were the centre of worship services. They were sung, recited, meditated, and made the centre of prayer. In fact, if you look at the evening prayer liturgy it is made up almost entirely of psalms, but we don’t really do evening prayer anymore. There are still parishes that will put their psalm reading to music, but others, as we do, read them responsively as a group. The psalms can take on a completely differently feel when they are put to music rather than spoken.

 

Even us clergy don’t usually favour preaching on the psalms, focusing instead on one of the other readings with the goal of linking them to the gospel – whether it be the actual gospel reading or the overall Good News of Jesus Christ.

 

The Psalter, written mostly by King David, is a collection of beautiful Hebrew poetry written in the forms of prayer, meditation, and song that comes together to create one book of praise, worship, prayer, and thanksgiving. For the season of Pentecost, I want to challenge myself to lean more into the psalms and hopefully, where we only hear pieces, encourage you to go read the full texts and to truly hear the powerful words of the Psalter.

 

Why do we only get pieces of the psalms, you ask? Well, one possible reason is because they are too long to read at one time (check out the length of Psalm 119!), but usually it’s because the creators of the lectionary have decided the verses they’ve omitted were too hard for us to hear.

 

Today’s psalm is an example of this – we only get to hear 2 of 4 parts. Part 2 is quite lovely and talks about God being ever-present in our lives, no matter where we find ourselves, however the last part is basically a plea from the writer to kill wicked people and the people the writer hates. So, I guess leaving that last part out is ok but we shouldn’t ignore that it is there.

 

Despite the strange turn at the end, Psalm 139 is a love poem to God. It reminds me of a sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I’m sure some of you have heard it before, even studying it in school:

 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

 

Can you count the ways you love God? Can you count the ways that God loves you? Is it as the last line says, “I try to count them – they are more than the sand”? If you were to make a list of the ways that God loves you, or that you love God, what would be on that list? Is it finite, or infinite?

 

The writer of Psalm 139 is relaying to us their loving relationship with God, the intimacy they have with the Creator, a relationship where God knows everything about them. God knows everything that happens and sees into our inner most depths. It is a relationship comparable to that of a parent and child. Is there a love greater than that? When we hear this psalm, there is a power in its words that lifts us up to God as like children into the arms of a parent.

 

God the creator knows us better than we even know ourselves. As with a parent, in God’s loving arms we have safety, we have belonging. Our needs are anticipated; our desires are foreseen. Within the words of the psalm, we become aware of God’s loving and constant care for us. As the one who created us, God has been with us since before birth, knitting us in our mother’s womb. As the one who created us, God will be with us at the end of our life, to take us by the hand and walk us home. As the one who created us, God will be with us at every stage of our lives – from the end of preschool to graduating from high school, with university students moving out of home for the first time, with recent empty-nesters, with the newly retired.

 

God loves us in more ways than we can ask or imagine and that is what this psalm is trying to say to us. To know that each of us were knit together in the womb, fearfully and wonderfully made by God, is our reminder of the diversity of creation, the diversity of humankind, and the diversity of our life experiences.

 

Psalm 139 invites us to be open to God’s presence in unimaginable ways and insists that God will be with us wherever we go and in all that we do. What more can we need or want than to know when we are at the end, when we’ve experienced all that life give us, God is still with us – as he was in the beginning, is now, and forever will be.

 

Amen.

Resources:

Feasting on the Word edited by David L Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor

Psalms by Walter Brueggemann & William H. Bellinger

The Songs of Israel by John H Hayes

A Review of the Book "The Shining" by Stephen King

Title: The Shining

Author: Stephen King

Publisher: Anchor Books

Year: 1977

659 pages

From the Back: Jack Torrance's new job at the Overlook Hotel is the perfect chance for a fresh start. As the off-season caretaker at the atmospheric old hotel, he'll have plenty of time to spend reconnecting with his family and working on his writing. But as the harsh winter weather sets in, the idyllic location feels ever more remote...and more sinister. And the only one to notice the strange and terrible forces gathering around the Overlook is Danny Torrance, a uniquely gifted five-year-old.

Personal Thoughts: Continuing on in my travels through Stephen King's writing, my next book was The Shining. Even if you're not a watcher of scary movies, you could probably name some of the images from the movie, as well as a couple of the famous lines like "redrum" and "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy". I've seen the movie enough times that it's ingrained into my memory and figured this would be an easy read. Wow was I wrong!

    First of all, and of this I really shouldn't be surprised, the book was absolutely nothing like the movie. Scenes I was waiting to read never happened and scenes I read were never in the movie but really should have been! Makes you wonder if the film would look different done with 21st century technology.

    Of the two, the book was definitely better, which again comes as no surprise. For anyone who knows me, my imagination isn't at the highest level which makes reading horror stories relatively easy because my brain isn't giving me the jump scares you would get in the movies (and none of the build up music, of course.) But I can honestly say that this book scared the bejesus out of me. I can't pinpoint what it was about this particular book that gave me the creeps, but I'm certain it has to do with King's skillful wordsmithing. It makes me wonder what I'm in for as I read on down the list of his publications. In case you're wondering which King book I'm reading next, it will be Cujo.

The Arrival of the Holy Spirit: A Sermon for the Day of Pentecost

Grant us your peace, we pray, as justice and love pour down upon the yearning earth. Amen.

 

I want everyone to sit tall in your seats, as you are able. Feet flat on the ground.

Hands on your lap.

Close your eyes, think about the readings you’ve heard today, and open your mind to any imagery that might show up.

 

Now, take a deep breath in….and let it out.

And again, deep breath in….and let it out.

Let’s do that one more time,

deep breath in….and out.

 

Excellent! How do you feel after that?

What kind of images came to you?

 

Those deep breaths in and out? That’s what the church year is like.

 

We spend six months of the year, hurrying about in high holiday mode as we muscle our way through Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, and Eastertide,

taking deep breaths and holding them in as we come into each holy season,

praying that we get everything right.

 

And then the other half of the year we get to sit in Ordinary time.

 

And I don’t mean “humdrum” time. I mean a time to exhale,

a time to reflect on all that happened in the other six months,

a time to grow into the lessons we heard and learned.

 

Next week we will celebrate Trinity Sunday as the final day before we exhale and head into Ordinary time.

But first, there is today, Pentecost,

the fiftieth and the last day of Eastertide,

and the birthday of the church.

 

Luke tells us that the community of disciples is gathered because of the Festival of Weeks (Shavuot).

 

Jesus had promised the arrival of the Holy Spirit not long after his departure and sure enough, on the festival day itself, the Holy Spirit arrives.

 

The scene is spectacular and chaotic:

a violent, rushing sound like wind, evoking imagery of the creation in Genesis 1;

and then “divided tongues, as of fire” – not a fire that destroys, but rather like the fire that Moses encountered at the burning bush, which was “blazing, yet it was not consumed” in Exodus 3.

 

You see in these verses wind (or spirit) and fire, and as each person was touched by these, we are reminded of the waters of baptism.

Air, fire, water.

Three of the four ancient elements.

But where is earth? Well, we are earth!

Human beings, the “adam”, the dust from which we are all created.

We, as earth, are incomplete without the other three elements.

 

God as Holy Spirit comes as fire, air, and water so that the dust can be moistened, the air breathed in, and the divine spark put into us so that we can become who we fully are – the messengers of God.

 

The Spirit’s immediate effect is linguistic: many are empowered “to speak in other languages,” and at the same time, each person hears each testimony in their native tongue.

 

Think of a meeting at the United Nations, in which everyone hears the proceedings (through a headset) translated into their language.

 

The upshot of all of this is a sense of togetherness and unity: diverse as they are, everyone understands and can communicate. Accordingly, they’re dazzled, bewildered, and taken aback: “What does this mean?” (Acts 2:12).

 

As if to answer this question, Peter stands and speaks. He cites the prophet Joel, adapting those ancient words to illuminate the present:

 

the final and decisive chapter of history has arrived, the dawn of God’s joyous Jubilee that Jesus declared early in his ministry, and now comes the long-promised “pouring out” of the Holy Spirit upon “all flesh”.

Jesus both heralded and inaugurated this new era, and the Spirit will empower a community through whom the movement’s message of healing, liberation, and joy will go out to the ends of the earth.

 

In other words, the church is born!

 

But what is the church? To put it simply, the church is the people.

Not a building, or a specific membership or group of people, not a gathering in a specific location.

 

God’s people. All of them.

 

And the first act of God’s Spirit at Pentecost honors the diversity and individuality of the believers.

 

God wants the Good News to be heard by all people and in all languages, especially in God’s mother tongue, which is love!

 

This radical new community about which Joel speaks and which Peter says is realized in the earliest Christian community is remarkably inclusive.

It is gender inclusive: “your sons” and “your daughters” (2:17); “servants – both male and female” (2:18).

It is age inclusive: “your young people” and “your old people” (2:17).

And if we are to take seriously the opening (“all people”) of this citation, then this community is also destined to be ethnically inclusive.

 

Diversity is a blessed feature of the Christian life.

 

And we have all been joined by our Baptism into communities of faith that look for – and expect! – the Holy Spirit to come along side us and shake things up,

preparing and equipping each and all of us to share the disruptive, surprising, and life-giving word of grace of the God who will not rest until all people enjoy abundant life.

 

Breath means new life;

new life means growth and change.

The Spirit is breathed onto us to protect,

to challenge,

to provoke,

to push,

and to call us into action.

 

The church is on a mission, God’s mission, to love and protect our neighbours as much as God loves and protects us.

 

The church’s ministry begins with the gift of the spirit, not for the sake simply of the church, but for the whole world.

 

The Spirit mobilizes us, the church, and opens up new horizons for ministry.

 

The Spirit makes visible and tangible God’s promise to be present, to empower, and to compel testimony.

 

We, as witnesses, testify about God who interjects God’s self into diverse cultures, languages, and life situations making God’s presence felt, heard, and seen, and compelling us to interpret, as best we can, what we have felt, heard, and seen.

 

And this is what we will spend “ordinary” time doing.

 

To close for today, I’d like to share Malcolm Guite’s poem called Pentecost.

Today we feel the wind beneath our wings

Today the hidden fountain flows and plays

Today the church draws breath at last and sings

As every flame becomes a Tongue of praise.

This is the feast of fire, air, and water

Poured out and breathed and kindled into earth.

The earth herself awakens to her maker

And is translated out of death to birth.

The right words come today in their right order

And every word spells freedom and release

Today the gospel crosses every border

All tongues are loosened by the Prince of Peace

Today the lost are found in His translation.

Whose mother tongue is Love in every nation.

 

Almighty God, your Spirit brooded over primordial waters, breathed life into dry bones, appeared as flames over the heads of praying people. Breathe on us afresh; stir us to speak, hear, and act as Spirit-filled people. Amen.

A Review of the Book "Thirteen Reasons Why" by Jay Asher

Title: Thirteen Reasons Why

Author: Jay Asher

Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group

Year: 2007

288 pages

From the Back: Clay Jensen doesn't want anything to do with the tapes Hannah Baker made. Hannah is dead. Her secrets should be buried with her. Then Hannah's voice tells Clay that his name is on her tapes - and that he is, in some way, responsible for her death. All through the night, Clay keeps listening. He follows Hannah's recorded words throughout his small town and what he discovers changes his life forever.

Personal Thoughts: Thirteen Reasons Why was an extremely powerful and emotional book. If you've ever experienced someone in your life dying by suicide, you've probably had many questions, especially wondering why the person chose to take their own life. This wonderfully written book tells a story about a young girl who takes their own life and leaves clues behind to tell people why she did it. In  thriller-like form, Jay Asher writes Hannah's story in a way that was both chilling and heartbreaking, all at the same time. You can imagine what it would feel like to be in Clay's shoes as he listens to the voice of a dead girl tell him all the reasons she thought that end her life was her only way out of a terrible situation. This book is a page-turner, you won't want to put it down. But you will need to decompress after reading it.

Wait and Pray: A Sermon for the 7th Sunday of Easter

Photo by Ric Rodrigues on Pexels.com

O God, may the finger of your Spirit stir through the clutter of my words to point a new understanding, to bless with a needed healing. Amen.

Similar to how the MNO Synod is gearing up for the Synod Convention, the Diocese of Rupert’s Land is in preparation for their Diocesan Synod meeting in the fall. There are two main pieces of discussion that happens at Synod – motions about all sorts of business items and the filling of all the committees.

 

This year, I agreed to co-chair the nomination committee. It means I need to figure out what positions need to be filled, gather the list of synod delegates, recruit members to the team, and then get the team calling delegates to see who wants to run for the various committee positions. It’s going to be a lot of work for the team over the next few months, because we all know how easy it is to get people interested in committee work…

 

Then each nominee will submit short bios telling the Synod why they want the position and describing the gifts they bring to the table. The Synod is then to spend a few weeks reading these bios and prayerfully deciding who they will vote for at the meeting. Votes are counted, elections are announced. It’s really quite the process.

 

When I read the passage from Acts that was assigned for today, it reminded me a bit about this process of ours. I heard someone say that if Pentecost is the birthday of the church, then Acts 1:15 is the birthday of the church council meeting!

 

Peter has gathered together all of the Christ-followers that he could muster – all 120 of them. These people are stuck in a liminal space, a time between Jesus’ Ascension and when the Holy Spirit is breathed on them at Pentecost.

 

No one likes liminal space. It’s unnerving and scary. You know you can’t go back, but the future is uncertain. I talked quite a bit about liminal space throughout the pandemic – when we were both church but not at the church, together online but not in person. There was a lot of in-between time where we just didn’t know where we were going, but we knew we’d never be able to go back to the way things were.

 

That’s what’s happening with the folks in the story today. They were stuck in that liminal space, waiting for Christ to come back or for whatever was supposed to happen next. So Peter did the most logical thing he could think of….he called a parish meeting.

 

Those that followed “The Way” were a small but mighty group who had just lost their spiritual leader, again, and were stuck waiting for whatever it was that was supposed to happen next. Peter needed to find the group a distraction and decided that now was the perfect time to replace that deserter Judas on the church council, I mean in the group of Apostles.

 

While this seems like a make-busy task, there is a reason Peter called for Judas’ replacement. The Books of Acts is a sequel to the Gospel of Luke, and if we look back into the Gospel at chapter 22 verses 29-30, Jesus says, “Just as God has given me dominion, so I give it to you. In my reign, You will eat and drink at my table, and you’ll sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” (The Inclusive Bible)

 

The need to replace Judas and return the number of apostles to 12 is symbolic. It follows the tradition of the 12 tribes of Israel, maintaining the connection that the Kingdom of God is for both Jew, in light of the original covenant, and Gentile, in the form of “The Way”.

 

And so, Peter called an election. We can imagine people going around, calling for nominations, figuring out who would be the best representative for the people. In the end, the community put forth two names – Joseph and Matthias.

 

Who on earth are these guys?!

 

Well, whoever they are, the people obviously thought that either one of them would be right for the job with one of the key things being that they “accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us” (22)

 

So here comes campaigning and voting, right? Nope! They cast lots, flipped a coin, drew straws. "Casting lots" refers to a method of making decisions or determining outcomes by drawing or throwing objects and then interpreting the results based on chance. In ancient times, people used various objects, such as stones, sticks, or specially marked tokens, as lots. The process involved randomly selecting one of these objects, and the decision or outcome was considered to be guided by divine providence or fate.

 

Ultimately, the person who was to replace Judas on the very first Christian church council was chosen in a seemingly random fashion. Seems kind of strange to us in 2024 though, and very different from the current state of church politics, or any other governing board. The Anglican Church of Canada is about to need a new Primate. I can’t imagine making that choice by choosing a name out of a hat! Or how about electing the next MNO Synod bishop by throwing a dart at a board?

 

But as this was the typical process in Jesus’ time, 120 people prayed on it, asking God who should be next 12^th apostle, they cast lots, and the winner was Matthias. A seemingly random choice. But if you compare that to the other apostles, isn’t that how they were all chosen, really? Random in our eyes, but chosen through prayer and trusting in God’s decisions.

 

So, Matthias was chosen as Judas’ replacement but then was never heard from again. Why? Was it perhaps because only a short time later, in Acts 2, God pours out the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and breaks everything apart? Was it perhaps that God had someone else in mind to be the new 12^th apostle, some guy by the name of Paul? Someone that the early church members would never have considered – I mean, he did try to kill them after all. But we have learned that God sometimes acts in mysterious ways for reasons known only to God.

 

And that’s where I think Peter fell short in calling this church council meeting. All these people, sitting in worry and fear, Peter felt the need to do something and the task he chose was to fill a council position. Not because God said it was time to do so, but because Peter needed something to do, to feel like he was taking charge of the situation and not just sitting around waiting in the time between Ascension and Pentecost.

 

But sometimes it’s good to just sit in that in-between time, in the liminal space. To sit quietly in prayer. To listen for God and wait for the Holy Spirit to guide us. We don’t always need to be doing something. We don’t always need to be reactive to the situation. Sometimes we need to just feel the situation, to allow emotions of uncertainty and anxiety to come over us so that we feel them in their entirety and prepare ourselves to let them go, prepare ourselves for what might be on the other side.

 

Just as Jesus did many times throughout his journey, it’s important for us to slow down and pray. In a world full of anxiety and uncertainty, it is time for us to reclaim intentional prayer. To pray with intention is to pray with an act of active consideration and intentional reflection, an act of humility, and an act of focus. Our faith in God allows us to trust that sitting in prayer will give us the chance to hear what God is saying to us, that the things happening in the world around us are beyond our control, but that God will always be there for us. Taking the time to pray to God reminds us that we are serving something beyond our own thoughts, motives, and desires.

 

Many of our times are in-between times, where we seem stuck in situations that just can’t last, that must lead to something, and we just want that something to happen so we can get on with it. So, we get anxious, and we want to do something, anything to move things along. But most of the time, we just need to wait and pray.

 

Amen.

Resources:

"New Collegeville Bible Commentary: New Testament" edited by Daniel Durken

"Feasting on the Word" edited by David L Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor

pulpitfiction.com

episcopalchurch.org